Skiftingklok: Prologue
Many years ago on a windy moonless night over Norway…a baby's cry rang through the snow-covered mountains, originating through from a small isolated village near Lillehammer…
SQUAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL-
Anja Wartooth stared down at the…whimpering thing in disgust…a hand shaped red mark blossomed across its cheek as it sniffled in pain. She made the sign of the cross before her as it let loose another cry. She trembled in fear, her fingers shaking. Ashamed at hitting…was this thing even a child?!
She had come down earlier to her and Aslaug's bedroom to tend to their newborn infant. There was nothing in the rickety cradle but a bundle of blankets. Blankets that moved and shifted. With trembling hands she threw the sheets back and found…this…this thing. The wind shrieked and a draft came in, the once-closed window, slamming open and the curtain fluttering like a dark phantom. Their baby nowhere to be found.
She had aged twenty years in that moment, her hair turned white.
Anja shrieked, a high keening wail. The thing joined her. Twin screams of fear and loneliness echoed together, intertwining.
The thing's icy eyes were scrunched in pain. Icy like the deepest circle of hell where the Father of Lies was entombed for all eternity or she hoped. Fat little legs wiggled about helplessly and a demon tail, tufted with filthy brown, hair thrashed about. Two horn nubs, another evil omen like the other deformities, poked out of a shaggy mat of brown hair. Twin floppy ears shook about.
Demon.
Abomination.
Huldrebarn.
Changeling.
Anja remembered a nearly forgotten story from her childhood as she watched the helpless…it. One wide pale eye watched the squalling abomination in fear through fingered bars.
Long ago, when the heathens of this land were converted to the one true religion, God walked among them. He strode to a simple cottage as the mother washed her children. Ashamed of the dirty ones, the peasant woman hid them from God, the one true Lord.
By God's decree, the hidden ones would be hidden from mankind. What is hidden from God, will be hidden from man.
Forever known as the Huldrer.
The Trolls.
Outside the wind screeched, and the window slammed again. Anja forced her hands over her ears and she curled up, its screams becoming louder. The wind's wailing nearly sounded like a human voice…
"Take care of my child…I trust you holy onessss…..
Anja heaved, hyperventilating. A withered hand on her chest. Why had this happened? They were devout, people of faith. Why had God let their child be kidnapped? She dropped to her knees and prayed for insight and comfort, she hoped her husband would come home soon…her neighbor had rushed to town to tell him..
"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name."
"Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done…'
The door creaked open. And the squalling became louder. In terror and panic, her hand flew.
"On Earth as it is in Heaven…Give us this day our daily bread…"
Another red mark arose on pale skin.
"And forgive us our trespasses…as we forgive those…who trespass against us…"
Anja shied away from the …thing…the huldrebarn.., dropping into the corner. It was still a child…nooo, it wasn't…was it?
"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…."
Light spilled into the dim room. Aslaug had come home.
Anja got up on unsteady legs and rushed towards him and collapsed…embracing her husband. Sobbing. Her garments wet with tears. Whimpers rang in the background from…it.
The Reverend knew what must be done. Their own child had been taken away and replaced for a reason. This was God's plaan …Aslaug's brown eyes laid on the thing…they would get their child back. The old stories said in order to get a swapped child back…the replacement must be treated…harshly.
Then their infant son would be back, safe and sound.
Aslaug's leathery hands gripped his cross, a grim look on his face. Anja stared at him with wet eyes, desperate hope gleaming out of him. She made the sign of the cross and glimpsed back at the …it. Another wet heaving sob.
They embraced one another.
Yes, they would get their child back.
No matter what it took.
This was merely a test of faith, from God, their one true Lord.
A drawer creaked as it was pulled open and a steel blade flashed. The same blade used in the tail docking and ear cropping of the village dogs.
The wind screamed outside. A low drone of…
…please don't do this to my baby…please don't…I beg of you….
…but the meaning was lost to their ears.
Whimpers became glass-shattering shrieks.
Anja made the sign of the cross, saw a hint of red, closed her eyes.
It...sounded…just like…her son….
She turned away.
